


yikes

by ymorton



Category: Pod Save America (RPF)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, F/M, Sexting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-19 07:54:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11893338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ymorton/pseuds/ymorton
Summary: uhhhh just a tiny bit of EMJON sexting





	yikes

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE GOD DON'T EVER SHOW THIS TO ANYONE INVOLVED

“Okay, that’s all I can deal with this morning,” Favs says with a sigh, hitting pause on the Sonos. Tommy’s serious talking-about-foreign-policy voice stops abruptly, and Lovett shrugs his headphones off one ear. “Love you Tommy, but I can’t deal with thinking about nuclear warfare right now.”

“I’m telling him you turned it off halfway through.”

“Well then I’m telling him you’ve been wearing headphones the whole time. You fucking fake friend of the pod.” Favs snorts and rolls his chair back. “I’m gonna grab lunch, you want?”

“Where are you going?”

“Chipotle?” Favs grabs his wallet. “You want the usual?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

The office is quiet, so Lovett grabs for Favs’ phone, enters his passcode and switches over from Podcasts to Spotify. It immediately starts blaring Taylor Swift. _Emily._

Speaking of- a text message pops up at the top of the screen and Lovett absently swipes to open it.

_LOVE you_ , it says. _I haveee to get back to work i can’t wait to see you tonight._

She’s followed it with about six pink heart emojis. Lovett rolls his eyes. Fucking marrieds. He scrolls up, sneaking a glance at the door to make sure Favs isn’t coming back. He has this horrible paranoia sometimes that Emily and Favs text about how annoying he is while he’s at their house. He knows it’s irrational, he knows he’s being ridiculous, but-

He scrolls past a photo and then stops, because that was-

He scrolls back down, breath catching so hard he almost starts coughing. It’s - a selfie, of- of someone’s crotch, Favs’ crotch, presumably, with his jeans unzipped and half-pulled down, and-

Are those-

He scrolls up, blinking rapidly, face going furiously hot. Jesus fucking Christ.

Right before the photo Emily sent- _Are you wearing them?_

Lovett’s holding his breath. He looks up at the door again.

_Yes_ , Favs sent back.

_:)_  
_Good  
_ _Send me a pic?_

_Now?? Lovett’s here_

_Go to the bathroom i want to see pleaaase._

The next message is the photo. Lovett looks at it a little longer this time. Favs doesn’t have his dick out but Lovett can see the shape of it, pressed half-hard against the silky fabric of his- underwear. Panties, whatever. They’re pale pink and too small on him, digging into his tan hips, and Lovett can see his dark neatly-trimmed pubic hair through the sheer satin, the weight of his balls. He scrolls down away from the photo, breathless. Jesus.

_!!!!!!,_ Emily sent back.  _You’re so pretty baby oh my god_

_Haha  
_ _I love you_

_Love you too_  
_God those look so good on you_  
_I’m so bored I wish you were here_  
_Wish you were under my desk rn  
_ _Want your mouth_

Lovett exhales shakily. He can’t believe these kinky motherfuckers. Favs is a fucking _Catholic_ , shouldn’t he be going to confession or some shit for wearing his wife’s underwear? Lovett's not an expert, but that seems like a sin. 

_Wish i were there_ too, Favs wrote back. 

_If u were here would you crawl under my desk and taste me?_

_Fuck yes  
_ _Fuck Lovett looks suspicious haha don’t get me hard_

Lovett narrows his eyes at the screen. He was not _suspicious_ at any point this morning. He was just enjoying a normal, quiet work day with his best friend and business partner. Favs can’t just involve him in their dirty little fantasy without his consent.

_Lol sorryyyyy_  
_God i can’t stop looking at that pic haha so hot  
_ _But we need to buy you some that fit_

_they’re tight_ , Favs sent back. Lovett’s stomach clenches, hot.

_I know baby  
_ _Does it hurt_

_A little  
_ _Feels good haha_

Lovett honest-to-God gasps and nearly puts the phone down. Jon _Favreau_. After a second he steels himself and keeps reading.

_Mmm that’s so hot  
_ _Keep them on all day for me??_

_I will_

_You’re gonna make a mess in them tonight  
_ _Haha I’m sooo mad it’s only 1pm i want to see you_

Lovett hears footsteps and furiously swipes out of the message, hits play on Spotify and tosses Favs’ phone aside like it’s on fire.

He glares back at his laptop, as Favs swings the door open.

“Lunch has arrived!” he announces. He’s grinning. “There was like no line. Barbacoa burrito, no beans, hot salsa, extra guac, a side of chips-“

Lovett sticks a hand out for it, face still burning.

“You okay?” Favs asks, sitting himself down at his desk and starting to peel the top off his burrito bowl.

“Fine,” Lovett says, not looking at him. How can Favs just- sit there? “I’m fine. You took forever.”

“You’re welcome for lunch, Lovett,” Favs says, laughing easily. He reaches over to fumble a chip out of Lovett's bag. 

Lovett just puts his headphones back on and bites into his burrito, tries not to tense up when Favs reaches for his phone, sticking his fork in his mouth and grinning to himself.

After a minute he huffs a laugh and starts typing, shifting in his seat, big shoulders hunched. Lovett watches him for a long minute, and then forces his eyes away and takes another giant bite of barbacoa. It’s going to be a long afternoon.


End file.
